By Lori Fazari
Yes, I’m a heterosexual female, but I love gay men.
It’s not like I go out and intentionally fall for gay men. It’s just my damn luck.
I think a guy’s good looking, funny and dresses well, and bingo, you can bet he’s gay. This twist of luck follows me everywhere. When I’m out at a club or restaurant or shopping and a guy catches my eye, you can bet he’s on the arm of another guy.
My friends all know not to trust me when I say, “Check out the guy over there in the corner — he’s so hot.” Because as good looking as he is, they know he’s probably gay.
I don’t mean to find myself attracted to men who are looking for the same things I’m looking for in a partner. It just happens that way. What I shame, I always think, that guy isn’t batting for my team. Because invariably, the ones I find perfect are playing for the other team and have no intentions of playing for both sides.
Which really limits my choices in men, I think. There’s the ones who are gay and sure, and have no desire to walk on the other side, even for a fling. Then there’s the ones who are gay and unsure, where I haven’t had any more luck.
It wouldn’t surprise me, though, if I were to find myself in a relationship with a guy I could swear is straight, only to find out he’s not sure. That sounds like it’s right up my lack of intuition alley.
On the flip side, like Elaine on Seinfeld, I make it my goal to one day get a gay man I’m in love with to switch sides and play for my team. I want to convert, damit, even just one guy (hell, even just one night). That’s my goal and I’m sticking to it.
Just once, I want to be the girl that gets the gay guy.